


A Training Session

by FeatherWriter



Category: Stormlight Archive - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: Cosmere, Gen, Shattered Plains, Sparring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2013-08-05
Packaged: 2017-12-22 13:26:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/913721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeatherWriter/pseuds/FeatherWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the tumblr Cosmere fandom's Secret Santa gift exchange. Kaladin is working to train the members of Bridge Four when an unexpected visitor drops by to check on them.</p><p>This fic takes place AFTER the events of The Way of Kings, so there are MAJOR SPOILERS.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Training Session

Loud cracks rang across the training ground as the members of Bridge Four went through practice maneuvers and sparring matches. The day was warm; the seasons threatening to slip back into summer. The day's heat was enough for Kaladin to wish he didn’t have to wear a full uniform. Though it was a lighter cut and designed not to be too hot, after months of wearing no more than a vest everywhere, a full jacket, long pants, boots, and long cape was far more fabric than he was used to having on. As a captain, however, he was expected to maintain a sense of decorum. There was no sloppy stylishness among commanders here as there had been in Sadeas’s camp. Officers in Dalinar’s camp, even darkeyes, were to be in uniform whenever they were on duty.

It had been almost two weeks since Dalinar had freed the bridgemen, and Bridge Four was flourishing. Full meals, regimented training on a regular schedule, and the ability to get a full night’s sleep had done wonders for the men, and their enthusiasm for learning the spear had not dampened, not by a faint breeze or a stormwind; if anything it had increased. All of Bridge Four’s fighters were strides better than when they had started, even better than they had been at the attack on the Parshendi. With Teft leading most of the training despite the arrow wound in his shoulder that hadn’t quite healed, and Moash and Skar helping demonstrate and teach where he couldn’t, Bridge Four had quickly gone from ragged fighters to soldiers.

Kaladin turned as someone came up to stand beside him. He quickly gave a short bow when he saw who it was. Adolin Kholin was wearing a uniform similar to Kaladin’s own, but his was finer to indicate his much higher rank.  Adolin frowned a bit when he noticed Kaladin’s cloak however, the only piece of his uniform that was higher ranked than Adolin’s own, seeing as it was meant to be worn by a highprince. Kaladin’s cloak was the one that the Dalinar had worn on the day of Sadeas’s betrayal, patched and given to Kaladin as a gift later that night.

“Prince Adolin,” Kaladin said. “Can I help you with something?” He wasn’t entirely sure how to proceed. He  _had_  seen Adolin these past weeks, but they had never spoken directly. Adolin seemed to avoid him actually, always acting stiff when he was around the Kholin’s new captain of the guard. Though Kaladin and Bridge Four had saved his life and his father’s, it seemed Adolin was still bitter about the way Kaladin had treated him and his men out in the field.

Adolin looked out at the men practicing. A few had noticed the prince’s arrival and had stopped their training to watch. “I wanted to come see you and you men in action,” he said. “My father has spoken highly of your skill with a spear, but I have had little chance to see for myself. Well, aside from  _that_ day. Your men seem well trained, even though you had so few resources while under Sadeas. It’s an impressive feat.”

“Thank you, Brightlord.” Kaladin said, still feeling rather unsure of himself. Syl, however, shared none of his discomfort at the situation. The small spren floated up right in front of Adolin’s nose, staring him down with her hands on her hips.

Adolin turned to face him and, despite his discomfort, Kaladin had to try not to laugh as Syl followed with a determined air, like she was trying to block his sight despite the fact that she was only a few inches tall. “I was wondering if you might allow me a demonstration?” Adolin said.

Syl’s mock seriousness almost made Kaladin miss Adolin’s words. “What do you mean? What kind of demonstration?”

“Simple. Just a match between you and me, your spear against my sword. Nothing official or anything, just a friendly spar.”

Kaladin frowned. “With all due respect, sir, I think you might have a bit of an advantage in a fight, seeing as you  _are_  a Shardbearer.”

Adolin chuckled at that. “True. Although if my father’s reports of his rescue are to be believed, it wouldn’t be the first time you held your own against a Shardbearer.”

“Or even the second!” Syl pointed out cheerfully.

Kaladin had to keep himself from frowning at her. He hoped that none of Bridge Four had overheard, seeing as most of the former bridgemen had stopped sparring and had started to gather around Kaladin and Adolin. They were curious enough about his past without hearing Syl drop hints like that.

“I didn’t intend to use my Shardblade, Captain,” Adolin continued, unaware of Syl’s interjection. “I brought this instead.” He drew a simple sword from the belt at his waist easily. The motion put most of the watching members of Bridge Four on alert, with Moash going so far as to start to lower his practice spear at the young lighteyes. Kaladin shot him a quick look, and he and the rest reluctantly backed off. He appreciated their desire to protect him, but threatening the prince wouldn’t do anything to help. What were they planning to do? Attack the lighteyes they were supposed to be protecting?

Adolin either didn’t notice the hostile reaction or tactfully ignored it. Knowing Adolin’s battle senses, Kaladin guessed it was probably the latter. Adolin laid his blade across his hands, holding it out for Kaladin to see. Though the metal gleamed in the light, the edges of the sword were flat and broad, not sharp at all, and the point at the end was rounded off.

“It’s a practice blade. Completely dull. Harmless. Father would kill me if I injured our new captain of the guard.” Adolin looked at Kaladin earnestly. “Would you allow me one fight?”

Kaladin was hesitant to accept. Why was Adolin interested in sparring with a darkeyes like him? Could the whole thing be a trick, a way to get revenge for the way Kaladin had ordered him around during the Tower rescue? It wouldn’t be too hard for Adolin to summon the Shardblade in the fight and claim he was acting in “self defense.” From what he’d seen of Adolin, the prince didn’t seem like the vengeful type, but Kaladin had long abandoned the foolish idea that lighteyes could be accurately judged by surface behaviors.

However, he didn’t really have a choice. Adolin had phrased the challenge as a request, but he  _was_ currently Kaladin’s superior officer. Kaladin couldn’t very well back down without either offending him or seeming cowardly.

So after only a moment, he nodded. “If you wish.”

Adolin smiled and then turned to walk to the center of the training field, the members of Bridge Four parting to let him through. Kaladin followed, trying to ignore the worried or concerned looks from his men. Teft threw him a practice spear which he caught easily as he walked. The shaft was smooth wood, with one blunt end capped in metal to imitate the weight of a sharpened spearhead.

As Kaladin stepped into the open space he spun the spear a few times to test its balance and get a feel for its weight. The members of Bridge Four spread into a half circle around the two combatants, anxiously awaiting the fight. Teft had to wave some of them back though, to give Kaladin and Adolin enough room to maneuver.

“Are you ready?” Adolin asked as he fell into one of the sword fighting stances, though Kaladin didn’t know enough about sword stances to recognize which one. The prince looked relaxed, comfortable almost. He was a duelist; this was a familiar environment for him.

Kaladin nodded, and fell into a defensive stance, his spear held in both hands out in front of him. Adolin attacked first, a simple side swing that Kaladin easily deflected. Kaladin could tell immediately that Adolin had a very methodical way to approach a one-on-one fight. He started slowly, trying to get a feel for Kaladin’s reactions. Kaladin tested him as well, increasing the speed of his attacks and counter attacks as Adolin did.

At first, Adolin looked appreciative at Kaladin’s ability to keep up as the attacks came faster and faster. Then he started to look slightly worried. As the cracks of blunt sword against wooden spear rang out, it became clear to both of them that it was Kaladin who had the upper hand in the fight. Adolin was an excellent swordsman and incredibly well trained, but the only time he would use a regular sword like this would be in duels, which were almost always against other lighteyes with swords. If Adolin faced spearmen, it was in the field with his Shardblade. Fighting with a Shardblade was very different than a regular sword. He wasn’t used to blocking and parrying spear attacks. It was a testament that to his training that he had kept up this long.

Kaladin on the other hand, was quite practiced in fighting lighteyes with swords. Years spent taking on the toughest and highest ranked opponents and their honor guards while trying to work his way up the ranks in Amaram’s army had taught him well. He didn’t press to end the match though, instead waiting to see what the prince would do now that he realized he was outmatched.

Adolin knew that he was going to need something more than just controlled skill to win this fight, and he was starting to try riskier attacks. That was when Kaladin saw his opportunity. Adolin deflected one of the spear thrusts upward instead of to the side. As he did, he ducked underneath the spear, trying getting behind Kaladin for a finishing attack. However, the move left him open on his unarmed side. Kaladin could picture the correct counter maneuver in his mind, a flick of the wrist to disengage the spear from the sword, a quick change of direction mid-swing, and a low sweep to take the young prince in the ankles, tripping him. From there, it was just a spin under his arm to bring the weighted “spearhead” in front of him and the match would be over.

But Kaladin hesitated, unable to go through with it. He spun to try to fend off the oncoming attack from behind, but he didn’t take his opportunity to end the fight. Before he could get his spear all the way around though, Adolin gave a swift kick to the back of Kaladin’s left knee, causing him to fall forward. Kaladin left go of his spear with one hand to catch himself from falling on his face as the ground rushed up to meet him. The rounded “point” of Adolin’s sword tapped the back of his neck seconds later.

Kaladin could see Moash and Teft tense out of the corner of his eye, but he stayed still while the sword was on his neck, even though it wasn’t sharpened. He was breathing heavily from the match and, somewhat surprised, he realized he hadn’t used any Stormlight. He hadn’t needed to.

Finally, Adolin sheathed his sword and walked around, offering his hand to help Kaladin back up. “Good match, Captain. I can see why my father trusts you to be protecting us. Your skill is admirable.” Kaladin took the hand, letting the young lighteyes pull him to his feet. Before Kaladin was fully on his feet, however, Adolin used the motion to pull him close enough to whisper. “Next time, you shouldn’t me win.”

Adolin let him go then, clapping him on the shoulder once. Then he turned to address the rest of the group. “You’re doing good work here, all of you. I’ll be checking in more often, Captain Kaladin, to see how your men are progressing. Thank you, for such a fine duel.” With that, he strode out of the training grounds, parting the members of Bridge Four as he walked towards the other barracks. Not a word was spoken as the group watched him leave.

Finally, Skar was the one to break the silence. He turned back to Kaladin, spitting on the ground. “He must have cheated. No other explanation for it. You’re the best fighter I’ve ever seen, Kaladin. There’s no way some fancy, self-important lighteyes beat you in a fair fight. I won’t believe it.”

Lopen nodded in agreement. “Now I don’t know much about sword fighting, gancho. But there must’ve been something tricky going on there if he took you down. You were winning there for a while, we all saw it.”

“He didn’t cheat,” Kaladin said simply. “I just want to know why he wanted to spar in the first place.”

“Does seem a bit unusual,” Teft agreed.

“It’s a good sign, Captain.” A new voice said from behind them. Kaladin and the rest of the group turned to see Prince Renarin behind them, resting his arms against the low fence surrounding the training yard. Standing beside him was the red-haired Veden girl who had come with the king’s sister from Kharbranth a few days ago. She and Renarin seemed to be spending quite a lot of time together recently.

“Dueling is basically Adolin’s way of saying hello,” Renarin continued. “Take this as him saying he wants to get to know you better. No hard feelings about what happened in the field. Like I said, it’s a good sign.”

Kaladin turned to look back at the way Adolin had left, though the elder Kholin brother was no longer in sight. Perhaps he had misjudged Adolin back in the field weeks ago. He had certainly misjudged Dalinar. Were his sons as honest as the Highprince seemed to be? And if he had been wrong about the Kholins, who else had he been wrong about?

Not Amaram, he decided, and definitely not Sadeas. But perhaps there were lighteyes who had not completely forgotten honor. As dangerous as that idea was, Kaladin could no longer ignore it as a possibility. These lighteyes were changing him, of that much he was certain.

He could only hope it was for the better.


End file.
